Previously on Everyday And A Man


“Please, who’s this abeg?” I snapped at the unknown caller. “The sun is too hot and I don’t have the strength for this game.”

“Calm down eh, why your body dey hot? It’s the guy from the other day. You know, the one that’s gonna fuck you real good.”

“Wait, Neto?” I said, feeling more surprised at how easily I’d forgotten the guy than realising it was him.

“So you can’t even remember my voice sef,” he said jocularly.

The nerve of this guy!

I went on to express my disappointment in him; I wasn’t upset or as angry as I thought I would’ve been. Over the previous week, a lot of shit happened that made me realise the damning effects of letting your happiness be hinged on others. This changed my perspective toward a bunch of things and I had to learn to let shit go easily.

He sort of apologised, saying he’d gone on a business trip to some far-off state and often preferred radio silence during such trips. I wasn’t having it of course, reiterating how he could’ve at least acknowledged my WhatsApp message with a reply. And he responded to my admonishment with a “So, how’ve you been”. He does that a lot, wanting to change topics abruptly when he finds a particular line of discussion exasperating.

In response, I simply sighed and answered, “I am fine.”

I did say I wasn’t that mad at him, and quite frankly, his distraction was a welcome development. We talked for a bit on random topics, again majorly around my wanton episodes in high school. He’d even discussed his findings from our last conversation with another queer fellow from our school, who validated my claims and wondered how on earth Neto hadn’t noticed. I laughed and taunted him over his ignorance.

I noticed my father approaching the car from the corner of my eye and I bade him goodbye before ending the call. Minutes later, I was smiling to myself as I drove out of the church’s parking lot, wondering about what we would have for lunch in an attempt to push Neto out of my mind.

I wouldn’t hear from him again till a couple days later.

I was at work, minding my business when my phone rang to life with a private number. Having attributed this style of communication to him already, I went into an inner room before taking the call. This time, I didn’t lament his protracted silence in communication. I’d also adjusted to this as his characteristic, and we simply picked up from where we last left off with a fervour that would fool anyone listening into thinking we were longtime friends.

He went on with his persistent libidinous banter, going on about how I should get a condom after work, because he intended to come around and slam me seven ways to nirvana. I laughed at this and told him that as much fun as that sounded, I usually leave too late from work to see anyone or be serviced so graciously. There was a bit of back and forth on this, but he saw that I was unwavering and gave up. Well, not really… It just sort of ended with him saying something about coming to get his condom and me successfully changing the topic by asking what he’d been up to. He replied that he’d been up and about, confessing to travelling a lot and preferring to call when he was in town, which I was fine with.

The whole conversation was lighthearted, one that left me in high spirits by the end. On exiting the inner room, I could hear some of my coworkers coo with their oohs and aahs as they wondered which babe had put me in such a good mood. I guess the glow was apparent and I laughed their comments off. I mean, what was I supposed to say? It’s not a girl o, it’s one guy like that who I can’t wait to see and hopefully get really freaky with in bed?

Right. Not in today’s Nigeria.


It was Sunday again. I was back from church but out, among old friends in a high school get-together that I honestly didn’t want to attend. But I reasoned I’d be better here than at home with my parents.

I was among friends, laughing and taunting ourselves with embarrassing blasts from the past, while I subconsciously awaited a call from a guy I’d scheduled to meet up from Grindr. As we bantered, my eyes settled on a figure that looked vaguely familiar.

Why is it doing me like I know this guy from somewhere? I thought.

Then it hit me. Wait o, isn’t this Senior Kaz?

The memories came streaming in: the covert late hour meetings, his staggered breath on my shoulder, the musty scent of his privates, the fervour of prepubescent hormones struggling to be satiated.

It had to be him!

Kaz was an old fling of mine, one of my early firsts even, a senior from high school who I was involved with multiple times (I won’t be telling that story). Thing is, he wasn’t all that back then. He was okay in the facial department and had the sparse muscles of a boy in the middle of his pubescent journey. He wasn’t generously hung, but he wasn’t average either. He also fucked like an amateur who’d probably never had any prior experience with the male pussy, but I was young and he was available, and a dick was a dick, so…yeah.

But NOW?

Holy smokes! This guy was FINE! I’m talking Romeo Miller fine, but taller of course. He was sporting a well-trimmed beard and head full of dread locs, caramel complexioned with small brown eyes and rosebud lips, you know, the kind where the upper lip is a darker shade than the very pink lower one. The perfectly-toned physique underneath his white T-shirt was hard to miss.

Talk about blossoming from a not-so ugly duckling to one heck of a swan!

My thirst was trapped. His long seemingly-strong legs had me wondering what he was working with behind those khaki shorts he was wearing. Suddenly, everyone around me didn’t matter anymore. I had to hit that…again.

Some shameless Jezebels at a corner on my right were already posing to be competition as they twirled their cheap weave-on flirtatiously, suggestively staring at him. It took the grace of Rainbow Jesus for me not to throw a stone into their eyes. Such succubae, wanting to snatch my prize with their feminine wiles!

Kaz was idly looking around, waving here and there at what I presumed to be familiar faces (including the shameless Jezebels), probably sizing everyone up or looking for his set mates, before his gaze settled on me.

Gosh, had he always been this fine?

He flashed this amazing side smile at me, clearly recognizing me, and winked before making a gesture to suggest we see after the function because he didn’t want to interrupt the flow I was having with my guys. And I nodded an agreement.

Throughout the meet, I’d occasionally look in his direction to catch his gaze, causing me to either quickly look away or hold his gaze for brief moments, during which he’d wink at me and I’d blush like a college girl. Damn, this was high school all over again. We were literally eye-fucking ourselves, and I’d suddenly decided to go over there and get things started, when –

*Buzz* *Buzz*

Ohm! Who be this one now? I thought exasperatedly as I took the phone from my pocket. That question was immediately answered when I saw “Private Number” on my phone screen.

Heaving a sigh of further exasperation, I excused myself from the group and answered the call when I was away from eavesdropping.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” was the first thing I said. “Really? Now?”

“What?” he said. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Yes! Well, no…I don’t know. What do you want anyway? And why are we still doing this private number thing?”

“How far? Where are you?” he said, brushing aside my frustration. “And where is my condom, this guy?”

Is he being serious right now?

“Neto, abeg not now… I’m at this high school thing, and there’s an old flame around that’s been giving me the ‘I want to fuck your brains out’ look since…” My voice trailed out as I looked around, checking to see if anyone was within earshot.

And then, there he was again – the delicious Kaz. That smile though, it could melt the whole North Pole for real. He was with his some of his guys now; someone probably said something funny, because everyone in the group was laughing hysterically. He looked up and caught my stare. I waved and he winked.

See how man pikin de play tumbom-tumbom with my insides.

“And this guy’s glow up is premium!” I continued into the phone.

Neto, the aproko intern that he is, started asking all kinds of questions, like what was going on at the get-together, who and who was present, reminding me of his distaste for the school, then rounding off with questions about Kaz, how we met to where we had sex, how he was then and how he was now. I generously responded to his questions, because I liked talking to him.

And then, an incoming call came on my phone. I looked to see who it was and it turned out to be my Grindr hookup. I quickly told Neto I had to go. He berated me over his assumption that I was tossing him aside to go talk to “Benson with the good hair” (his words). I chuckled at that, then assured him that I’d never leave him for “Benson”. He seemed elated – that is, until I told him I was actually leaving him for a random hookup. He was just about cussing me out for dashing his pride, when I ended the call and answered the waiting call.


Meeting with the Grindr hookup was a disappointing affair, so disappointing in fact that I lost the vibe to be out and about, and headed home immediately after.

It was evening now, and I was back home, going through the pictures I’d earlier taken with my guys and taking in how different we all looked compared to the youthful innocence we bore all those years ago. I mean, I know people grow but I never knew it’d be so obvious.

I was just about to respond to a message from a friend, when a call came in. Surprise, surprise, it was Neto. For real, for real, he was calling me twice in one day? This time, without his private number thing? My, my, how upgraded life seemed to have become.

“Hey, what’s up?” he hailed. “So how was your one-day stand?”

“Disappointing,” I answered. “Like, the guy catfished me. Talk about what I ordered versus what I got.”

“Eiyah, pele. At least, you got Benson’s number, right?”

I froze.


Shameful realisation kept me mute while I mentally berated myself. I swear eh, sometimes I need caning.

“I forgot,” I muttered into the phone, unable to stop the mental tears that were pouring down my soul.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t get that,” he said.

I could swear that this guy was messing with me. I could almost picture him holding back the laugh behind an ear-to-ear grin.

“I forgot,” I said a little louder.

“Could you speak up please? I really can’t hear you,” he said. This time, I could definitely hear the restrained amusement in his voice.

“I said I forgot!” I yelled into the phone.

Ribald laughter was all I could hear for the next few minutes. He was lucky he was the caller and so, it wasn’t my airtime. I really wanted to end the call. It was embarrassing.

“Guy!” he finally said. “You forgot? How? You been dey sleep? How do you forget something like that? Chai, no na! Danté, you fuck up. Na so you don allow premium glow slide comot on top bad market…”

He went on and on, and wouldn’t stop. Like binge-watching the shade corner with 5G. It didn’t help that his barbs were meeting their mark, because I knew I’d fucked up. Flashes of Kaz’s fine face kept zipping through my mind, causing my soul to grieve harder. And all because of a Grindr hookup that didn’t even make sense?!!!

I was finally gearing up to lash out at Neto, when he said something about how I still got to talk to a hot guy like him. He then reminded me of his condom and asked if I had it.

Like niggur!

I snapped that it was Sunday, why would I be out looking for condoms? And besides, after all that taunting from him, he should best believe that he’d be getting those condoms and using them on himself.

Seemingly realizing that I was not in a good mood, he started apologizing, asking why I couldn’t take a joke, and then offered to come pick me up for us to maybe go for a drive around town, see if he’d be able to cheer me up. I’d already started rejecting the offer, when he interjected that we could end up having a good time and for me, ending the day on a high note.

It was around 8 PM at the time. Was it late? For me? Absolutely. But I was home, sufficiently bored and could use a night drive around town. Besides, after my Kaz fuckup, I really needed a pick-me-up. There was also the fact that I was very, very curious about this mysterious guy called Neto. Of course, I still had my reservations, but the rapport we’d developed overtime had gradually calmed my worries. Plus over here, kito cases are rare and practically nonexistent in my neighborhood

Besides, he’ll be coming over to meet me and we won’t be so far from home, right? I reasoned to myself.

“Fine,” I sighed into the phone.

He was excited, even though he tried to mask it with feigned nonchalance. It was adorable really.

A few minutes later, I was out of the house, on my way to our rendezvous point, wearing a hoodie because of the cold. My mind was working like clockwork over the various ways this evening could go wrong and how best to manage the situation. As a rule, I didn’t come out with my main phone; I had with me a small one with two contacts on it, my best friend’s and another friend’s who I could count on should this meeting go south. I hadn’t told Neto the exact location of my house, and per my paranoia, I’d earlier furnished my friend with his (Neto’s) contact, instructing my friend to call me an hour later for a follow up. And that if I didn’t pick up on the third try or should my line be unavailable, he should send out an SOS to relevant parties.

*Buzz* *Buzz*

The vibration in my pocket rocked my mind back to the current scene. I turned my head up to realise I was a few steps away from our meeting point.

*Buzz* *Buzz*

“Hey, what’s up?” Neto said when I answered. “I’m almost at the junction. Where are you?”

“I’m almost there too. Just turn in, you’ll see me walking down.”

As I was talking, I could see the beam from car headlights radiating out from the adjacent road before he made the turn. He pulled up beside me and I got in.

Okay, revelation time.

The first thing I noticed about him was his nose (like, that shit is huge), and then slowly I took my gaze up to meet his eyes. And there he was.

His eyes were small and giving me that “So, na you be this” look. He was wearing a face cap, black T-shirt and a pair of shorts.

Neto is huge, like grizzly bear huge. He obviously didn’t work out as much as he claimed he did, but he is definitely not fat. He is – what’s the word, thicc? Aha, that’s it. He is thicc. He has a solidness to his adipose tissues, packed tight on his frame. He is really tall and dark-complexioned. But in the looks department, he is not as cute as he thinks he is. Don’t get me wrong, he’s okay. But you know how you’re expecting to see that guy from Bridgerton, the Duke of Hastings, and instead you meet a Jim Iyke or Adekunle Gold. What you get isn’t bad, you see, but compared to what you were expecting… you guys understand na.

Anyway, so there we were, silent, letting our eyes roam our bodies, sizing each other up, probably weighing if this was worth the hassle. I don’t know about him, but to me, it was. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to have sex with him, but he was someone I’d decided I’d be close to.

The conversation that ensued was effortless and flowed like astroglide. You see, I like to talk, so naturally, I try to spark up a conversation as I am reasonably knowledgeable on most topics – except sports, that is.

“So? What do you think?” I eventually asked.

“You’re actually cute o…” he said.

I smiled inwardly. So much for not being all that, I thought as I remembered his earlier assessment of my looks.

“You look better than your picture,” he continued. “Abi is it because of the hood? Lemme see you without it na.” He reached out to pull the hood off.

I slapped his hand away. “Hell no. If I have to take off my hood, you have to take your cap off.”

“No biggie.” He removed the cap. “See?”

“Yeah, I’m still not taking mine off now. Drive, abi are we going to stay here till tomorrow?”

“This guy…” He chuckled before starting the car and turned out the junction and then into the main road.

“So?” he asked.

“So what?”

“What do you think?”

“About what? The night?” I said teasingly. “It’s actually kinda cold, plus there’s way more cars on the road than there normally is by this time.”

“No nau. You goat,” he said with a laugh. “I mean, what do you think about me?”

“Oh, uh, you’re cool.”

“Really? That’s it?”

“Hian. What do you want from me? I should blush and blather on in reverence of your amazing awesomeness?” I said sarcastically.

“That would be a start.”

“You’re an asshole, you know that?”

“And you’re a rude-ass bitch.”

We both laughed at that, and then turned to look at ourselves simultaneously before laughing again.

“When I say you’re cool, I mean you look good,” I said.

“See? Was that so hard for you to say? It’s true sef, where my condoms? This guy, you de fuck up o.”

“Jeez, do you usually make everyone you meet this uncomfortable before you have sex with them?”

“Oh no, I don’t fuck guys.”



Written by Danté

Previous Porn Star, Alex Riley’s Death At 22 Years Of Age Rocks The Adult Film Industry

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  1. Reen
    May 15, 13:21 Reply

    This better not be what I’m thinking.

  2. Delle
    May 16, 07:28 Reply

    Even if he does fuck guys, with the protracted banter, Lord knows I would have lost interest in having sex with him. Automatic friendzoning.

    Keep it coming. I love the flow of the story. So relaxing.

  3. Fred
    May 16, 14:51 Reply

    As in he receives only?
    Part tiri Pleeks…

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